A Walk in the Clouds

Sometimes, if you spend too much time in the weeds--in the mundane business of paying bills, returning emails and relentlessly pursuing an ever-expanding "to do" list--you forget to look at the sky.  To remember your passion, your direction, your dreams.

So today, I made a conscious decision to spend some time in the clouds.  To plan, to dream, to luxuriate in possibilities.

I highly recommend it.

Eating Frogs

Every morning, I try to eat a frog.  The earlier, the better.

I'm a procrastinator by nature.  I will do anything to avoid a task I find less than stimulating, whether it's crafting a difficult email, taking the car to get the oil changed or putting away my laundry.

I'm the same way with running.  I'm usually good about getting my runs in, but I purposely avoid certain routes that I know are challenging.  Namely, Bohler Road.

In the past two years, I've come a long way with my running and have learned to tackle some pretty substantial hills.  Cardiac Hill?  Easy.  Johnson Ferry Road?  A breeze.

But Bohler Road has been my nemesis.  A half mile of pure, inclined hell.  The last time I ran that route was back in June, and I bonked so hard I walked the two miles home and seriously contemplated calling a friend to pick me up.  Granted, I was hungover and it was 88 degrees outside, which probably contributed to my struggle.  But mentally, I couldn't bring myself to conquer it again, for fear of failure.  Until today.

You see, three weeks ago, a friend of mine was hit by a car while out for her morning run.  The same breezy routine repeated by thousands of runners across the country, but with a nightmarish ending.  Two weeks in a coma.  Still unable to speak or eat or walk. Months, possibly years of rehabilitation ahead of her.

It makes me scared, sad and hopeless.  What can you say or do to possibly heal that type of wound?  To try to make sense of such a random, senseless occurence?

For me, the only thing I know how to do, the only thing I can do, is run.  And run with a vengeance.  Safely and alertly, but with strength and purpose.  

And run I did.  Up that damn hill.  It wasn't fast, and it wasn't pretty, but I did it.  And was grateful for the opportunity to do so.

My Journey from Food Phobe to Foodie

Insomnia

It's 4:29 a.m., and I've essentially pulled an all-nighter.  I think it's been a decade--at least since graduate school--since I've done this, and well, I'm not as young as I used to be.  It's enough to make this weary publicist even wearier.

I didn't intend to stay up all night (or morning--I'm confused).  It all started yesterday morning, when my husband's alarm went off at 4:45 a.m.  I managed to go back to bed until 6:30 a.m., when his taxi driver called and apparently couldn't get in our gate.  And called and called and called, all while poor Mr. WP was walking around the community trying to find the wayward taxi.  Meanwhile, the dog was already stressed out, needed to go out, was blocked from the stairs by the cat, and gave up and puked all over the floor.  By 7 a.m., I figured sleep was futile.

So, I wandered down to my computer and started working.  And with the exception of a quick four mile run, I worked straight through to 7pm, when I left for an amazing night of music--U2--with 75,000 of my closet friends.

I left super keyed up, so what did I do?  Worked some more.  Until 4 a.m.  And here I am, at 5:17 a.m. and unable to fall asleep.

Did I mention that this weary publicist is supposed to run eight miles today?

Logging off and hoping sweet dreams find their way to me!

Growing Pains

I'm an accidental entrepreneur.  I never had intentions of building an empire--I really just wanted to make enough money to justify not needing a "real" job.

Fast forward two years, and well, here I am.  Working and networking non-stop, with a full roster of fabulous clients.  I feel incredibly blessed.  And slightly overwhelmed.

Enter the cash-strapped professional woman's solution to work overload--the intern. 

I've managed interns before.  I've managed staff before.  But it's an entirely different thing when your name and your brand are on the line.  I spent 45 minutes crafting the email with the first assignment for my intern--practically hypeventilating at giving up control.

And it wasn't so much about the intern or that particular assignment (which she completed flawlessly), but about all that that "needing help" implies.  That my business has grown large enough that I can't do it on my own.  Which means I may one day need a staff.  And have to manage that staff (gasp!).  And trade in the kitchen table for an actual desk (in an office?!?!) and ditch the pajamas for professional clothes (double gasp!).

I'm trying to take it day by day, but that "what ifs" are intriguing...